The attention was held, swathes of citizenry packed tightly in the space.
All manner of eyes fixed firmly to the front,
a shuffling foot
a baby cries between the time it takes a man to blow his nose and leave his dreams aside.
For the stage is set, the lights on a speaker drifts towards the microphone.

The silent crowd awaits in suspense for the man to confirm their social bias,
twice before this has been the fate for us, brainwashed and well fed trapped hate in us.
Potential energy kept firmly down via electric veils,
fat and bloated by a thousand eyes fixed firmly inwards extracting piece by piece
and stored away in case of emergency break glass and kick ass.

Stick a monkey in an infinite cage by himself he'll wander forever in a realm of pure perception.

Stick two and around they go back and forth,
forever an unsettled and unresolved belief that each one is truly right to no end,
the other must be wrong.

Strange things happen when you add the third,
a stage for one to preach to an audience of two
who judge between themselves the merits
forever agreeing about the first until he changes a mind,
becomes one of the two who judges one

and round and round we go in unresolved intent and dissent forever.

Musical Meditation


Pulsing through the air
A heavy sound permeates the air
Floating, you are moved when it hits you
Vibrational energy flowing through your veins
Bouncing within waves as you disintegrate
Allowing the waves to grow, to intensify

Magnify this force
View deeply inside
Allow it to resonate within every soul
It's no longer the voice, the sense
But heavy vibrations feeding the world
Waves are the essence of our being

Continuous motion
Varying tempo
Forcing togetherness and spacial distance
Pulsating through history it cannot be tamed
You are a significant part of this ocean
You have no influence in your role

Vibrate
Resonate
Magnify
Resonate
Vibrate

Dissolve into the energy
Embrace your purpose

Self-Awareness


Far more than a body
Far less than just substance
A paradox in existence
Absolving the tether with wisdom and clarity

The constant constellations, lead me to revelations.
To disconnect the cortex, and spiral into flight.
Spiral into photosynthesis, forgetting your hypothesis.
Conclusions will decompose your will, to experience the universe.
Stretching far beyond the mortal grasp, consuming your given vision.

What Should I Write?


I could sit here and write forever
And tell you of all the things I could think of
But the simple truth is I have no idea
Of what exactly I should write here

A simple poem of how I feel?
Or maybe a song of what's real
Either way I could not find the words
Those slippery things that dance in front of my eyes
But turn to mist as I try to grasp them

It temps me to write lies
Of all the things I see through my days
Yet somehow I cannot bring myself to do such a thing
Maybe it's because I do not wish to ruin the perfect
Although I am doubtful, I believe this is a dream

Yes, perhaps I shall tell you of my dreams
The swirling substance of make-believe that engulfs us while dozing
Long ago I taught myself not to imagine
Falling from the sorrow of trusting once too many
For a while, reality was the safest

I have grown so much stronger since then
Finally longing for what I once stole from myself
Prepared to take on the whole world and beyond
Though all I can do is look through the window you fashioned me
Wishing for a time gone past

Mayhaps I could tell you what I wish for
Sad thing there, because I do not understand
I wish for the trees and the land, the water and the beasts
Its all here, if only you look hard enough
But why must we search for something so sweet and pure?

I will take you outside one night
We shall stare at the stars until sunrise!
The wind should be warm if dares to caress your face
Lush grass pillowing our bodies against the hard ground
Is this what is considered a dream?

I remember a time when despair was my closest friend
Those days are gone now, to never come again
Be banished from me with your foul breath!
You shan't poison me with your lies once more
No, I have not found the truth, but I have found a new beginning

Ah, at last I am back from my journey
Joy rises in me as music slowly drizzles in the air
Come and dance, it whispers sweetly towards me
The music of life I can hear once again
Lifts me up into the sky as I dance upon its tune

So it seems I can write once more
Not only that, but new words are in abundance
Drawing me back into the world of creation
It feels good to be home again
Bringing a gift called Joy to decorate with

Coming up coming down
going up rolling round
City rolling and a clown a choking on some fresh picked lettuce eat some salad
Little creatures of pure energetic guitar noise coming through the phones justice on their maws
NONE OF THEM CAN STOP US NOW I CAN MAKE IT THROUGHT SOME HOW
VISONES and visions, however the saying goes, the minfrizzle increasing exponentially

Up and through the glass cieling my thoughts fly
mind and muddled mediums of being blown away on the thin ice of a new day
metal in my mouth, tryp going south, wind bellows in my ear, akin to lover dearest ,
"Dear, oh dear of wind and whyps come forward into the light
none of them can stop us now
We can make it through somehow."

GHosts in the mind and on the cpu dealing with psychology in the dear old gPU soul on a hard disk
Heart on a solid state never let me this state of myriad mind go away. New and old and new again my dear old friend

GOne like the wind, or the grammatical structure of this poorly strewn poem.

OOPs its a bright beautiful sun strewn day and the music player is ready
Clothes I dawn, the monkey gets wrapped.
Pails, snails and puppy dog tails like a fish I wail for bliss, for justice, for warmth
For it all.

I am interested in you.
I want to use my life around you.
I want to get to know you on a one to one kind of a slip stream.
With moon beams falling on us as we talk deep into the night.
Deep past all of the fright and spooks in the mind to a place of clarity.
A place where we don't care.
A place to declare love truly and without comfort.
My heart is open to that.
To this.
I'm not talking to you.
I'm talking to myself.
You aren't here.
I'll see you again.
And there will be love and deep curiosity in my eyes.

Slithering, penetrating
Constricting, lingering
Stale, pale stagnation
Seizing you, ceasing you
Displeasing you, easing you
Into accepting the unacceptable
Living death, every breath
Synchronised to the tics and tocs
Of machine manufactured clocks
Timepieces representing stopped
Pieces of time as something chopped
Into conveniently uniform
Pieces, packaged and leased
To the very, very, busiest
Of the fleshy robots, they go
Beep in the night
Beep
Beep
Beep
Tic
Toc
Tic
Toc
Death
Is full of change
That's why they're afraid

Rotting corpses change every day
In ways a flesh robot in a suit
Could only dream of
And to it it would be
But a nightmare

Unless one day freed
From its chains
Of limited perception

wouldn't it be geneous
generous!
to name your cur after your enemy
a person you genuinely hate
and so I will name my next animal
scott.

and I will play pool
and
I will play pool
and the evening redness to the west
will continue to glow brighter and more spectacular
all the time
although it was once the brightest
and most defiant of all possible
sun sets
and once
the most anticlimactic
horrible and real
of all evenings
and my heart will continue to beat and to moor itself
in the impossible sky light
and love you all the time
but I will probably never
see him again
and niether will I that impossible spring
and niether will I those clouds, their fire or their rain.

and there are always dogs
and
there are always dogs
and I would name mine
after the blackness in that time.

--

Time passes like water
as water passes through my hands
and my hands through it
as our thoughts spred like fingers
rooted in the sand.
and the castles that tower higher
or crumble
if they can. as the water
carries them
and ferries us again.

and what can time be
but the counts and the numbers
for all your faces and all the words
and I in the center
turning the days
and the rain
and the light
and the women
and this heat like pages
from your book or what book
but mine or any other
and I don't know and I don't care
and I'm sorry. my joy my sorrow
because I do
and I do and I do.

Your dreams are poison to my mind
And I dream of things that kill you inside
You dream so vividly I become gray
You get sick. "Lie down" I say
"Drink this, you'll be all better in the morning"

*

Your saw right through me
You saw everything but me
I wasn't invisible enough
My outlines formed your prison
You let them restrict you
Through your faulty perception
You knew how to take
And what you now give me
I accept knowingly
"Thank you love" I whisper
I know I will be better
I never held on to things like you
I always gave my all

*

"Sleep now, you need the rest" I say
Knowing you will never wake up
Knowing I will get the rest I need
Knowing you will be better off too

*

I smile a genuine smile
I lived so much, loved so much
A tear rolls down my cheek
"So do you" I say and drift away

What is
impossible memory?

Where do we look
when afraid,
yet from which countless
stabs to the imagination
enerve pain,
resucitate soul?

Why, it's your smile
beloved child
this moment and always.

"Breaking Through"

Not delinquent.
This path is one of understanding
and mental change.

Visions enter, warped walls shiver
and the feeling delivers
something demanding,
something strange.

Reaching inside myself to
realize what is true.
Reaching the point of no return,
I can only think of you.

Negativity swarms,
but my breath always
guides me into bliss.

"Become pure intention and
follow me into the abyss."

Some other part of me whispers
courage into my ear.

"Mr. Mentality"

Asking favors,
stuck on this behavior,
this new flavor.
Seeking redemption, but
not faith in a savior.

I'm stuck on the same words,
and it feels absurd,
like my thoughts are blurred,
and reality is self-assured.

Asking questions,
like what is meaning, and
why do I even need redeeming?

Language is the meaning,
and I've spent my whole life dreaming.

Asking questions,
like what are thoughts, and
how do I exist in relation to them?
We can't be one in the same,
because I can feel them
wash over me and carry me away.

I must be pure experience.

Keep your beauty to yourself
Tell no one no one no one else
Else codified and reproduced
A spectacle will it induce

Specters walking foot in glove
Go about they can not love
Culture says they mesmerized
They know not how to be alive

Let us you and I find equal footing on higher ground
For now we have grown heavy with much misunderstanding and mud mucking
We know not each other nor ourselves
I grow tired at last
I bid you kill me or leave me be

Like lightyears

It was just a strange honor
to have fit
in those banished cracks---
a role I was not given
like a translucent vial
underground
in your face---the
last ones left---
            backbone smelling
     through the white cap
they already know everything
the wave rolls back

memories
of an infinity, yeah

I remember the junction---
there was a math to it;
we confounded no we
splashed these ideas and
it spread like a virus---
then it died of confusion
living dormant---
living---breathing---
but dormant as an earthquake
snaps in threes

What else is there to do---you
tell me---it broke off
and went it's own way---
black manzanitas . .

A scribe
in a lab---a mad
man among---would you have had
it any other way---now it's
clear as a pastel hum
the nothingness
is listening---

All those stories
boiled in starlight
down to an extract
of choices . .

it was realer than real---
this thing that connects
even that which is most divided
like lightyears
laughing with my eyes closed---
getting younger every day---
these creaseyed canyons like a
chrysalis---this silence
like the sound---

I wish I could say something
so profound but it's
impossible
palms pressed
in a tornado
of fire mist
going home . .

Little lantern
in the darkness---how we
flew near the flame---no---
how we sang with
our courage---our science---
to face the only mystery left---
with poetry---with
buzzing hands while you lay---
still kept in a drawer, right,
or do you keep it
underground
like me . .

this little dream,
you seem so real,
look at all the smiling
faces, look at
what we've
done
the
gratitude
the gravity . .

was it akin to the flow
of light that
we were given
the greatest gift of all---

was it Sakyamuni
who said self-actualization
was the greatest thing
that he could give---

was it therein lies
disintegration---
those who
turned a blind eye
to the call of the voice---
it's already done---
we're already
whole---this is it---
we do not resuscitate---

This is beautiful.